


Immaculate Delicacy

by happilyappled



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: 2012SKBB, Abortion, Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cannibalism, Gen, Mental Institutions, Murder, Serial Killer Big Bang 2012, Vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happilyappled/pseuds/happilyappled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way has been on a personal quest against aging since he was fifteen years old, murdering victim after victim. His story only starts when he's arrested and meets the most amazing psychiatrist. Dr. Iero has a family Secret that will change Gerard's vision on everlasting life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immaculate Delicacy

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been rated "Mature" for violence, murder, vampirism, obsession with blood, deliberate and unconscious acts of cannibalism and non-opinionated abortion. Please, don't comment with your personal opinions on any of these themes.
> 
> Thank you, [Hannah!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagesick) You were super ecstatic about this and I loved your comment on it.
> 
> There is a second version of this story, with _original characters_ , written for [Serial Killer Big Bang](http://serialkillerbb.livejournal.com/), which rules dictated NO RPF. This is the bandom story for all of my readers, as some of you have told me you were excited about serial killer!Gerard. I hope this pleases you. It has certainly pleased me and filled my life with an interesting tale to tell. Thank you.

**Eight.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America._

Gerard is at home, at his huge family manor in the woods with an immense property and a tall hedge fence around the old-fashioned building to keep it invisible to the public eye. The Way family has always been very fond of their seclusion, due to the importance of the family business and the good feeling of being left alone at the end of every day. It might be a family manor in the woods, but it's Gerard's now since his family has been gone for years and he never had many friends, but he can't complain about his life because he has always been a freak and a loner.

So he's at home and he's alone, and then the bell rings. Gerard lifts his head and sighs, putting the knife down. He tips his head to the side in a swift movement so that his hair gets out of his eyes and then he looks down at himself. He's wearing his heavy working apron and it's dirty with blood and viscera, so he takes it off and throws it at the metal table in the room. He walks out of the chamber and closes the door behind him.

The bell rings again. Gerard enters another room, quickly washing his hands and his face and checking in the mirror to ensure that there is no evidence of what he's been working on for the past few hours. Whoever is ringing the bell outside has nothing to do with what he chooses to perform down there. It's his house and he has a butcher's shop to run.

He rolls his eyes as he leaves the bathroom when the bell rings again, very persistently this time. By the stairs, Gerard closes and locks the basement door and goes upstairs. He sniffs the air and realizes that the smell has died down a little, mostly due to the heavy reinforced door he just locked. He looks down at himself while he crosses the foyer to the door, then he looks at the mirror that he has by the door to the living room, and again at the mirror by the door to the kitchen to make sure that there is nothing wrong with how he looks. He takes some time to rearrange his hair, because it's thick and flying everywhere around his head, as the bells rings a fourth time.

"I'm coming, dammit!" he yells, annoyed. He lives in a big house, so people should expect to wait a little while he gets to the front door, but nobody ever seems to understand that. He rolls his eyes one last time and, taking one last sniff at his T-shirt, he approaches the door and opens it at last.

He smiles at the two men standing outside, but they don't smile back. They don't even introduce themselves. They shove a paper onto Gerard's face and he can read in big, bold letters the word at the very top of the page: **WARRANT**. He looks past the paper at the two men; they're both tall, but while one is wearing a neat suit with a dark blue tie, the other is wearing a Police uniform. Gerard widens his eyes at them as the suited guy says, "Gerard Way, don't bother fighting us. You're under arrest…"

 

 **Six.**  
Gerard was at the classiest club in town. He adjusted his crotch in his tight jeans and patted at his black button-up shirt. Staring at the mirror, he adjusted the collar at his neck and slid the hair that hung over his forehead to the side so that it didn't get into his eyes. He put on his jean jacket and wiggled the sheriff star he had on the pocket over his heart, then patted at his left pocket, at the back of his jeans, making sure his black handkerchief was in place. Grinning at his reflection, he left the restroom next. 

Back into the club, he saw that the guy was still sitting by the bar, looking out for Gerard. His name was Jack or Jake, or something equally boring; it didn't really matter right now. He was playing with a cherry in his mouth and Gerard grinned wider because that was really hot. The whole guy exuded hotness and he was just Gerard's type: short, slim, fit in all the right places like his thighs and his arms, and then Gerard took a really good look at his neck and there were muscles and tendons and veins everywhere and it was just hot and perfect. It was everything Gerard was looking for, in addition to great conversational skills and easily persuaded character. Tonight would definitely be a success for Gerard.

That was easily confirmed when Gerard approached the bar and faked an apology about having taken too much time in the restroom, but the guy just leaned in and kissed his lips. A few more cocktails in and the guy was in Gerard's car, open-mouthed, moaning, squeezing Gerard's crotch and squirming under Gerard's kisses. Gerard pulled back, grinned and drove them home. This guy was pissed from all the tequila and margaritas and whatever else that Gerard had paid for him, and he was only all the more glad about it.

At home, the sex was drunken but still good, and Gerard relaxed enough, but it was nowhere near orgasmic. Gerard came but he needed the great finale. It had been only two months since his last completely fulfilling orgasm, but it was more than time to get one.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he said. Jake, or Jack or whatever, was almost out because of his drunken state combined with his sex hormones, not to mention the powder Gerard had smeared on the rim of the glass of wine they had drank in the living room, before they went to his guest room downstairs to fuck.

So the guy was almost out and Gerard went to the bathroom. He took his usual post coital piss, but instead of going back to the bedroom, he entered his favorite chamber, eyeing the handwritten 'Fun Happens Inside' banner on the door. He got what he needed from the shelves on the wall and went back to the bedroom quickly. Jake, whatever his name was, was still in bed but he wasn't fully asleep yet, as he hummed Gerard's name when Gerard got his knees on the mattress and it gave under his weight. Gerard pushed him backwards to lie on his back and grinned down at him, showing him the hammer in his hand. He said,

"This is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna hit you right here." Gerard thumbed at the middle of the guy's forehead with his free hand, applying some pressure. The guy squinted at Gerard, but he was so out of it that Gerard didn't bother to put the rest of it into proper sentences. He just added, "It'll only hurt for a second and it's gonna numb your brain pretty hard, but leave your heart pumping blood. I'm gonna have some fun with you afterward, okay?"

The guy's eyes widened in shock at Gerard's grin, but it was too late.

 

 **Nine.**  
Gerard is at the Police station, waiting. He's alone in the room, one of those interview rooms with the single table and the two chairs on opposite sides of said table, and the large mirror on the wall. It looks like a normal a mirror on Gerard's side, but it should be a one-way mirror for the people in the contiguous room, or maybe that's just what he hopes, since he remembers these rooms from all those criminal investigation television shows he used to watch with his father when he was just a kid, every evening before dinner was ready. He checks his reflection on the surface, anyway.

His hair is disheveled, just the way he likes it when he's not working; it's thick and kind of long, reaching the back of his neck and covering his ears and always getting over his eyes, so he flicks it back to the side. His T-shirt is ripped at the v-neck and Gerard pulls on it, sniffing it; the smell on it is awful and intense as he hasn't washed it since he went out hunting, two nights ago. It's his working T-shirt, so there isn't much he can do about it. Gerard catches a glimpse of something under his ear and tips his head up and to the side so he can see what it is.

It looks like a bloodstain and he rubs at it with his left index finger, using his bitten down nail, and it comes off slowly in dried flakes. It's only a piece of evidence as to what Gerard does for a living and he loves it so much. He especially loves the fact that he doesn't _need_ to work, since he's pretty much the only one left on this side of the family and he has enough money to live quite luxuriously until he's over two hundred years old. He laughs at the irony of that, since he is actually trying to get as close to that age as possible, but he calms down easily. Gerard is very proud of the brilliant plan he created and follows every day, and he kills as often as he can in order to achieve his primary goal. It's true that he's been caught, and he is aware that he is to blame for that, but now that he is in here he might as well share his secrets.

He has done so in the previous interview, telling Detective Toro and Officer Bryar that they had the right man and that he had killed dozens of people for a higher purpose. Yet they had barely reacted to his confession, asking stupid questions about how he had chosen his victims and why he was in this murder haze, instead of focusing on the really interesting details of how and what for. Gerard only replied with the truth and revealed his master plan and his methods and his intention, thinking that confessing would help his case if he ever made it to court. He's been caught, and his plan is compromised since he can't carry on with it if he's here, but he's pretty calm. He sighs when he thinks that the mistakes he made led the Police to his house, and well he won't be able to help his grandmother when he's imprisoned. She had been the main reason why he started this life quest for a very special cure and now she might succumb under Gerard's absence, but he hopes for a happy ending.

Obviously, he also has to think about his business. He's a butcher and he's excellent at his art, and people will always eat the meat he sells and not question its source when it's labeled properly and washed and looking good on the display case. Gerard grins at himself and wonders whether his store would remain successful if he was sent to prison, if it would live on without him and his secret. And of course, with his upcoming reputation as a murderer. His name is pretty famous in town and perhaps around the world, but he couldn't care less. The major problem here is his butcher's shop and his grandmother.

Gerard doesn't get an answer at all and his thoughts are interrupted by the door opening. In come the same detective with that massive ponytail at the back of his head and his neat suit, but a new officer with a tanned skin and a shaved head and a very uptight expression on his face. Behind them comes another stranger, in a doctor's white coat buttoned up on his left side, only revealing the unbuttoned collar of a navy blue shirt. He's kind of cute, short and apparently slim and the kind of guy Gerard would hunt down on a night out.

Detective Toro puts an end to his train of thought when he says, "This is Officer Pedicone and this is Dr. Frank Iero. He works with us in very specific cases, like yours. He's a psychiatrist and is gonna be here for the rest of the interview. His outlook on your condition will be very important and decisive."

Gerard nods, because what else can he do? He is yet to understand how a psychiatrist is going to be useful for his case, since he's just another serial killer on a quest, but he lets it roll and works with these men. The doctor is the one sitting down on the chair, looking at Gerard with profound eyes and a tremor on his lips. He looks quite excited, while the officer stands by the closed door and the detective stands beside the chair, turned to Gerard as well. He is actually the first to interrupt the silence.

"So Mr. Way, would you mind telling us about what we found in your basement?" he asks, putting a brown folder that Gerard hasn't seen before on the table. He opens it and Gerard sees a pile of photographs in it. He looks up at him, then at Dr. Iero who is kind of smiling at Gerard right now with a look upon his eyes that suggests a kind of excitement that Gerard doesn't understand. Still, Gerard looks down at the photographs and grins, knowing exactly what they are of. Detective Toro asks him, though. "What do these pictures represent?"

 

 **Seven.**  
Gerard was in his favorite chamber of the house, standing by a large metal table, watching his most recent masterpiece. It was Jack or Jake or whatever, hanging from the ceiling. He had rope around his wrists, tied to the solid hook fixed to the wall, high where it connected to the ceiling. He was naked. There was a huge oval pottery basin beneath him filled with his blood; it was still dripping from the major precise cut over his femoral artery, deep on his thigh. Gerard bit his lip as he watched, because this guy looked more gorgeous than ever.

He filled several 500ml vials with the blood, which is mixed with the right amount of an anti-clotting agent, and set them aside on the metal table, then placed all of them into his metal case when he was satisfied with the quantity of blood he had to store away. He remembered how easy it had been to put Jack, or Jake, to sleep, since he barely put up a fight before the hammer hit his forehead, strong and precise. Gerard was already used to that, but he could never control the boiling in his own blood and the feeling running across his entire body whenever he did that. It was the orgasm he ended up loving and the release of hormones he needed to feel completely satisfied.

The rest of it was always easy: dragging the guy's unconscious body to the secret chamber next to what Gerard pretended to be his basement bedroom whenever he had guests, then tying his wrists and using the homemade pulley to haul him up at the top of the ceiling. Stabbing his thigh and cutting along the femoral artery was the greatest fun happening in the room and watching him bleed to death in a matter of minutes was the icing on the cake. Gerard felt empowered by the fact that he was in control of the situation and that no one could take this away from him, and no one could stop him from enjoying it once the guy was almost dead but still shaking and in pain, perhaps feeling his life fading away and his heart slowing down. It was the most beautiful thing in Gerard's life and he never got tired of seeing it. He didn't need to cream his pants from it, but the orgasm felt like a rush of heat and fervor in his blood and burned in his chest and cheeks, fizzing in his brain, and everything was so perfect and goddamn wonderful.

Gerard was grinning when he started carving the guy's body and skinned him carefully until he was only muscle and tendon. It was surgical. It was incredible.

 

 **Eleven.**  
Officer Pedicone throws Gerard into a crowded cell. Gerard falls on his knees because his body's hurting from sitting on the same chair in the interview room for too many hours. Still he's very proud and gets up as quickly as he can, using his hands to support his weight on the nearest wall and stand up. The cell door is locked with a thunderous noise and Gerard looks around at his cell mates that fill the small space with grime and a deep scent of sweat and whatever other body fluids that Gerard doesn't dare to think about. They're all young and ugly, or fat or barely dressed or so stoned that they don't even notice their surroundings.

Gerard shakes his head at them and sits on the floor properly, because he's hurting and tired and his mind keeps worrying him with questions about his house and the work he didn't have time to finish before the Police knocked on his door. He tries to shift away from those thoughts and looks around himself. Thankfully, no one says a word to him. He's gonna spend the night in here and who knows how many more nights.

He can't help but worry again, about his meat and what the Police are going to do with it, and with the vials of blood in his case, and if they've disposed of the internal organs correctly. The Police have most likely dismantled his entire dungeon, destroying Gerard's work after almost fifteen years of hard work. The worst part of it is that they will probably keep it all stored away in a cold evidence room in the back of a building where no one ever goes to unless they have to.

It was all for damn nothing, so Gerard better make the right friends here and get as few years as he can. He won't get any younger in prison.

 

**Two.**  
 _Year: 1990.  
Location: United States of America. _

Gerard was with his grandmother at her pottery workshop. They had spent a lot of time together in here, since it was their favorite place to be. Gerard had never been as close to anyone else as he was with this woman. He smiled at her while she worked at the wheel with her elderly hands and her deep care about art and making every piece absolutely perfect, and that was the kind of person he wanted to be when he grew up. He wanted to be like his grandmother; caring, interesting and admired. He didn't want to be the stupid kid who always stayed at the back of the classroom feeling useless and unaccomplished.

Right now, he felt useful and happy as he cleaned different pieces of work of different sizes and materials and stored them away on the shelves. Then, he realized that he couldn't hear the squeaking of the wheel as it turned and he span around to look at it and investigate, just as his grandmother was saying, "Ahh, I'm getting too old for this."

She was rubbing at her hands and wrists as though they were hurting her, with a grimace on her face that Gerard had not seen too often. She tended to ignore the pain in her body and keep on working, even though she was old and could get hurt more easily than years ago. In fact, she had gotten sick recently, so Gerard was very worried. He hadn't witnessed her usual fiery energy in over six months, since she started complaining about the soreness of her hands and wrists, and probably articulations in general. What made things worse was that, no matter how many times they had been to her physician, there was still no proper diagnosis and thirteen year old Gerard was very scared.

He had always loved and worshipped his Grandma, for her life and her deep knowledge, for her laugh and her eternal young spirit, for her art and the way she always dedicated herself to her job. Gerard had never met anyone as entertaining and inspiring and beautiful as his own grandmother, and he also admired her for how she had taken care of Gerard and his little brother since their parents started traveling and ignoring their kids.

They were rich, since Gerard's great-great-grandfather had become a magnate in the coal mining business last century, but Gerard had always seen his grandmother work at this pottery workshop and keeping herself busy with art. She produced it herself, in various forms, like pottery and clay sculpting and actual painting on canvases, or even painting expressive designs on the walls of their house, which kept changing every once in a while. She also taught art to the kids in town for free, and liked to help them in school with their homework and essays they might have to work on. Gerard and his little brother Michael were included in this lot, of course.

She was such a wonderful person in general, always carrying that broad grin across her lips and that honest expression in her eyes, a spark of life that always made her so good-looking. On top of it all, she was a joyful person and made Gerard very proud of being her grandson. He loved her to death and seeing her in pain like this broke his heart.

Gerard _hated_ getting old. He wished he could do something to reverse his grandmother's aging process, or at least slow it down. He promised himself he would behave in school and study hard and focus on science and technology, and so much more.

He would find a cure for getting old. He _would._

 

**Ten.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America. _

Dr. Iero is still sitting down on the chair, after having stared at Gerard for a long time. The detective and the officer have left the room a long time ago, having left them alone so the doctor could interview Gerard about the murders and probably his confession, but so far no one has said anything. Gerard is just waiting patiently for a question, because he won't talk otherwise.

"Detective Toro told me you confessed?" Dr. Iero finally asks. He's looking straight at Gerard, with that crease high up on his forehead. He doesn't look that old, as far as Gerard can judge that, but that crease must be age-induced. It looks like it. "Don't just stare at me, Mr. Way. Answer my question."

Gerard steps out of his staring game. He shrugs first, then replies, "Yeah, why should I lie? I killed those people and I don't regret it. I simply don't understand why they called a shrink to interview me."

"Well, according to the preliminary report, you did say you didn't hide your victims' bodies, but ate them? That's pretty fucked up, so they suspect of your mental stability. Therefore they need _me_ to evaluate your state. What I don't understand is, why did you confess to have murdered these people and won't reveal where you disposed of their bodies?"

"But I did!" Gerard insists in saying the truth, but no one will believe him. He knows it's hard to accept cannibalism in today's society, but people ought to understand the advantages of it. It's not creepy; it's healthy. "I'm in the meat business and I believe in the wonders of human flesh. I have confessed everything. I find these people, take them to my house and carve their meat to eat and sell in my shop. It's a success actually. No one suspects where the meat comes from when it's labeled, even if it's a fake label."

"So you sell human meat at your butcher's shop?" Gerard nods. "What for?"

"I have discovered the wonders of it, what it does to those who eat it. My main focus is how rejuvenating it is, working better than whatever anti-age lotions they sell at the supermarkets. It's a natural product that acts directly in the blood stream and slows down the aging process," Gerard explains, as slowly as he can. "I didn't understand why people wouldn't embrace the idea, so I started selling it too."

Dr. Iero is smiling at him, but that crease on his forehead deepens. Then, he asks, "Do you really believe that?"

"I do, otherwise I wouldn't be murdering for a living." Gerard arches his eyebrows, because he doesn't understand why they won't believe him at all. He's telling the truth, yet they refuse to accept it, thinking that he's crazy. He hasn't been acting crazy, has he?

"When did you start figuring this out?"

 

**Three.**  
 _Year: 1993.  
Location: United States of America. _

Gerard was fifteen years old and he liked going to school. It helped that he went to this expensive, private institute with the best reputation in town, but he liked studying and learning more every day.

One day, he heard of the tale of Dorian Gray and became interested in that theory of living ever after. He had become fixated on everlasting life, or at least in _not_ aging through the years, since his grandmother started getting sick and was, in the end, diagnosed with ALS. That neurological disorder would end up taking away her physical abilities day after day, until the point she would no longer be able to move or even eat on her own and would require constant assistance to do so.

Gerard hated that, so he quickly invested in the Dorian Gray's myth and studied his tale, learning everything there was to learn. He realized, however, that Gray lived longer because he had a painting that grew old for him, a piece of art that would always haunt his existence. Gray would never live in peace and that wasn't enough for Gerard. He didn't want to grow old in any way, physically or in a painting, so he soon lost his interest in this story.

He continued doing research on immortality and found all these cultural references to it. He developed a special interest in horror movies, always having been fond of them, so he quickly became avid of the legends and tales that the movies recreated. He investigated one after the other and, as soon as he learned about the vampirism culture, he couldn't stop himself. He became obsessed. It was all about the vampires' good looks, and their arrogance, and their pride in living forever.

It wasn't a mere obsession over vampires. It soon became a raw feeling. Gerard envied the vampires' immortality and he didn't care about what they had to do to feed and live eternally. He _wanted that._

One day, he was in the living room with his personal laptop on his lap, reading some more about the vampire cult, looking for inspiration or a random idea on how to choose his first victim. He was mostly going through the stories that were supposedly real about people who killed others and drank their blood and became obsessed with doing it. Suddenly, he wanted to _act_ , instead of only gathering information. He tried to form a plan, thinking of finding random victims on the streets, but he was so young and thin-built that he probably wouldn't be able to kill someone and carry their body. He needed to be sensible about this.

So he sat there, reading, thinking about finding a first victim for a special occasion, and his father walked in through the basement door. The idea hit Gerard like a sudden gush of wind. It was an evil idea, but it could work. He didn't know how, but he just figured out who his first victim was going to be. He decided on using his father, and afterward Gerard could pretend his father had called him and told Gerard he wouldn't come home for another week or so. He could even send emails to his mother in his father's name, since Gerard set it up for him and kept the password, and nobody would notice the man was gone until a long time after he stopped sending emails and going to work and coming back home. And well, nobody would suspect of Gerard, right? He wouldn't kill his own father.

Except he would.

On the day of his sixteenth birthday, after months of having learned everything about vampires and having formed the best plan for this, Gerard felt ready. He got home from school and nobody was around. His mother had been out for two weeks, and his father was out of town taking care of business, looking out for the still-active coalmines. They were both supposed to come back today, but Gerard didn't know precisely when.

His grandmother was probably still at the pottery and his brother should be with her, since the Institute he went to was really close to her workshop. So Gerard was home alone and he had an idea, because he wanted to gift himself for his birthday. He wanted to make his first victim today, to start testing his vampire theory.

Before he started working on his plan, though, the house phone rang. They had phones in every room, but Gerard still had to cross the whole living room to get to the phone there. He was standing by the French windows to the front of the manor, and the phone was by the television set. When he picked up, he heard his mother's voice. She wished him a happy birthday and announced she wouldn't be able to make it home tonight, as she had planned, but that she would be home by the weekend. And that was in three days, so Gerard said it wasn't a problem.

So that was one person down. Gerard was one step closer to his first murder and his hands were shaking from the anxiety.

At some point, he heard a car pulling up to the driveway and, moments later, the garage gate opened with a strident squeak. It had been making that sound for a few weeks now, but the person they hired to come take care of it was only supposed to come in two days. It didn't matter right now. He moved quickly and went to the panic room, in the basement. The room was there for emergency cases, but Gerard used it to spy on the house and see who was home and who wasn't. He checked the cameras to the garage and saw that his father was home, alone. His grandmother and brother were still nowhere to be found.

"Happy birthday, son," said Gerard's father, when Gerard came back to the living room and saw him sitting on the big couch, with a drink in his hand. He got up and Gerard accepted his hug and his best wishes, thanking him properly.

Gerard smiled a little, but it soon changed. He didn't understand the need to celebrate their birthdays, since they were all taking small steps towards the end in this decaying human nature. Yet he had just thought of a way to fight that decadence and he was not happy with the fact that his relatives insisted on wishing him a happy birthday. He hated it. Still, he could be cordial to them; they were his family and well, his plan would soon take its first step. _Phase One: First Murder_ was ready to start.

"Father, I know you must be tired," Gerard began, pulling away from the hug. His father just stood there, staring at him, waiting for the rest of Gerard's question. "Do you think you could come with me? I'm supposed to wait for the men to fix the garage gate, to check on that awful noise it's making, but I'm not sure I'll be of much help for them by myself."

"Sure. Let me just relax for two minutes. Call me when they get here."

Gerard conceded with a nod, but he had to think quickly. There were obviously no men coming to fix the gate today and he needed to come up with a plan B, or at least a way to convince his father to come to the basement. Before that, he went downstairs and prepared everything he needed, smirking to himself. When he was sure he had the right tools, he went back upstairs and found that his father had dozed off on the couch. This was suddenly perfect.

"Father, they're here," Gerard told the older man, shaking him awake. His father blinked at him in confusion, but rubbed at his eyes and got up. Gerard led him to the basement, specifically to the garage. He had everything there.

"What's going on?" his father asked him, sounding confused. Gerard understood him, because there was a huge, black trash bag opened up on the floor, like a carpet, kind of unnecessary to fix a gate that was creaking horribly. And they were alone, of course.

He smirked at his father and let the knife up his sleeve slide down to the palm of his hand. The older man hadn't seen it yet, so Gerard said, "Nothing's going on. Everything is running the way I thought of it."

He showed his father that he was holding a knife, running the blade over his palm, but it was quickly stabbing the side of the man's neck.

Gerard could feel his heart beating fast as he scratched at his brow, and he could feel the slight sweat on the back of his neck. He looked at his deceased father on the floor and at his bloody hands, then brought them close to his face to inhale that iron-y scent. He looked at his side, at the large water bottles filled with the dark red fluid and felt that urge to gush one down his throat, but he would wait. There was something else he needed to do today, before someone else came home.

First, he ran to the living room, then up the staircase to the last floor of the manor, to put the bottles in his bedroom. He hid them in the very bottom of his closet, but there wasn't any risk of having them found, because everybody was severely ordered against coming into Gerard's room when he wasn't in it.

Then, he knew he needed to dispose of the body, so he went back to the garage. He struggled to fit his father's corpse into two of those huge trash bags he had used to cover the floor, pulling the strings at the top until they were tight around the dead body. The next step was going outside to the tool shed at the back of the house, but he tried to keep it quiet by opening the garage gate only a little to avoid the creak. From the shed, he got the first shovel he found that was big enough to give him less trouble and shoved it into the big wheelbarrow in the corner, wheeling it back to the garage.

He struggled to get the body on the wheelbarrow as well, but soon he was pushing it through the semi-open gate to the back of the manor. Gerard was going to bury his father's body in the woods, behind the family mansion. He might have spent hours digging a hole big enough to fit the corpse.

Gerard felt a little bad afterward, but when he thought about the blood in his bedroom and about his plan, it dissipated the whole guilty feeling. He had a goal to achieve and, hopefully, he would live many years to see himself accomplished.

 

**Twelve.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America. _

Frank enters the room and doesn't stop until he's by his locker. He keeps thinking about Gerard's story, wondering how much of it is true. Even to him, a fifteen year old kid should not become a murderer, but Gerard seems to be very determined and that kind of quality grows with age. It's just so outrageous to find a mind as Gerard's in jail, because a genius mind usually comes with methods and ideas to keep the Police at bay, but somehow Gerard has been caught.

Frank can live with that, but he needs to learn more about his character. He needs more interviews, longer ones too, because he can't decide on the state of Gerard's mind just from a few sessions. In most cases, the prisoner is easy to diagnose, because their mental instability is obvious, or their behavior is very clear, but not Gerard. He's unreadable, and the story he told Frank about his first murder had been quite a surprise.

There isn't a way to imagine what made Gerard kill his own father, or what his motivation was, or how he dealt with the post-murder, or how long he took to murder again. Frank hadn't had time to question him about that, but he will do so eventually. He scheduled more sessions with Gerard, knowing that the officers and the detectives at the Police station are aware of how he isn't ready to diagnose just yet. He needs to know more, drive into the deepest of Gerard's mind, and try to understand him. He's such an intriguing character, decided, with a plan in his head and a plain conscience of what he wants to achieve, but that only makes Frank more interested in everything else. He needs to learn about Gerard's evolution.

Forming questions non-stop in his head, Frank closes his locker in the Doctors Room and looks down at his watch. It's time.

Frank leaves the room and walks towards the exit, adjusting the collar of his shirt and his cardigan, waving goodbye to every staff member he passes in the hall, and heads straight for the elevators. His shift at the hospital is finished today and he wants to move on with his day. There is something else he needs to do before he heads to the Police station. For now, though, he presses the B button on the elevator panel and, once in the basement, on the first floor of four used as parking lots, Frank walks to the service lift and goes further down, to the –4 level.

Hardly anybody comes down here, since this floor is not even in use; it was locked down after a major flood a few years back, but Frank feels like he's at home. There is a metal door in a corner and next to it, there's a panel. Frank inserts the right code and a new panel emerges, one for handprint scanning. Soon it's all done and the door opens and Frank goes in, finding his co-worker in the first room to the left. They nod at each other and hug very swiftly.

They don't speak while they cross the main hall and the woman opens the third door on the left for Frank. He goes in, into another locker room and gets his white working apron, putting it on and turning to his co-worker, who is wearing a white apron herself over the usual black blouse and jeans. Frank asks her, "Is she here?"

"She's ready, Doctor."

 

 **Thirteen.**  
"Do you like coffee?" Dr. Iero asks Gerard, from the door. Gerard can see an officer guarding the door outside and, as far as he can tell, from the tiny squared window on the door, he doesn't move unless there is someone coming into the room.

Gerard has been waiting for some time now and it's not that he has better things to do in here, since he's at the Police station. He's basically waiting for something to happen, but so far it's been him alone in a crowded cell and being interviewed in these insipid rooms. Gerard hates waiting.

Now, Dr. Iero has arrived, but he doesn't come past the door, and he's asking Gerard if he likes coffee. This is unusual. Nobody offers him anything here, except random words and empty threats, but coffee would be nice. "Yeah, but I dunno if the guard—"

Dr. Iero closes the door again and Gerard shuts up. When he thinks about it, this offer is the first question that is unrelated to the reason why Gerard was arrested. Dr. Iero has always been nice to Gerard, always reacting to his replies, either smiling or retaliating with a new question, unlike the detectives. They only nod and keep asking things, writing out whatever in their tiny notebooks. With Dr. Iero, it's personal. And now he might bring Gerard some coffee.

Gerard used to be addicted to it, and he would drink several cups a day. It was good for when he wanted to make some art, alone or with his grandmother. A couple of years ago, however, the effects started showing. Gerard started having insomnia, and major headaches when he wasn't drinking it, but the worst of it was that he was feeling tired and drank more coffee and slept even less. Soon he felt ten years older and was starting to look older. In the end, he started drinking less and, at the moment, he set himself on a maximum of two cups per day. And if he didn't drink any, there were no side effects whatsoever.

The door opens a couple more minutes later and Dr. Iero comes in, with two small cups of coffee, steaming in his hands, and puts them on the table. Gerard waits for the next movement, the two of them in silence as Dr. Iero sits down, adjust his chair and slides one cup across the table, closer to Gerard. He says, "Here. Drink it. I brought you this because I think we're in for a long conversation. I've warned Detective Toro and the officers, so they won't interrupt us."

Gerard nods, taking his first sip. He hasn't had coffee in a couple of days and, although this coffee is too sweet for what he usually drinks, he accepts it gladly. He has never refused a friendly offer and Dr. Iero is nice to him, this moment proving it even more.

"The thing is, Gerard…" the doctor starts, and Gerard doesn't mind that the doctor calls him by his first name. He never liked being called _Mr. Way_ ; it reminds him of his father and he buried those memories a long time ago. Forgetting about it, Gerard looks at Dr. Iero over the board of his cup, drinking it in large gulps, because it's hot and sugary and he actually missed coffee. He focuses back on Dr. Iero. "I want you to tell me about your life after that first murder. Any detail is important; how you felt, if you had urges to kill again, if you gave yourself a goal to murder. Anything."

"Whenever you're ready," he concludes, taking the first sip of his own coffee. By this time, Gerard is organizing his mind and trying to remember everything, but then he starts feeling dizzy.

Maybe it's the extra sugar, or the quick ingestion of coffee after a couple of days without it. He doesn't know, but his head is light and it starts filling with many images from his past. He sees it all in a flash, bringing him back to the months after he decided to kill his father. Gerard can't be sure of what it means, but after the images, he just feels really ready to talk. And suddenly, he's unloading everything into words, letting himself talk for hours.

 

**Four.**  
 _Years: 1992 - 1997.  
Location: United States of America. _

Gerard's father didn't die in vain. He died for a cause.

Burying his body was the next step and Gerard didn't need much to come up with an excuse for not being at home when it was already past dinnertime. He spread dirt all over his clothes, face and hands, took his shoes off and threw them into the woods and ran to the front door of the Way Manor. By the time his grandmother opened the door, Gerard was crying and started babbling nonsense about having been kidnapped. He knew he wasn't making any sense, but he was the heir of a great fortune and getting threatened was nothing new to their family.

Gerard spent the next days alone in his bedroom, faking a traumatized behavior and only speaking to his grandmother for brief seconds every day. He had a reason to do so because, not being traumatized at all, he still had the bottles of blood that he was obsessed over. In the end, he hated himself for having stored it away, for it was all clotted and he wasn't able to drink it, so he wasn't getting any results. He would need a new plan. After days of deep thinking and online research, while being locked in his room despite his grandmother and brother trying to get him to talk, Gerard came to two conclusions.

He needed to kill again. And he needed to prevent the blood from clotting.

A second death in his family would most likely rise suspicions from the Police investigators, so Gerard needed new victims. He was still young and thin-built, so he started sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night through the basement door and killing random people in the streets with the highest crime rates in town. It was easy to stay out of trouble, and equally effortless was to find a drug dealer that could get him an anti-clotting agent, no questions asked.

Gerard tried to choose victims that were smaller than him, lighter than him, and he drained them of part of their blood using water bottles and a funnel, placed under the deep cut he inflicted on their jugular vein. He did this once every three weeks, but instead of drinking the blood in its purest form, because it tasted so awful, Gerard started mixing it with the most varied drinks. He created bloody cocktails that were easier to digest. He called this part of the plan, _Phase Two: Blood Cocktails._

There still was a master plan to all of this. Gerard was still looking for something and slowly, he was closer and closer to get it. His cocktails started making him feel somewhat more energetic, and he didn't sleep as much but still felt rested enough in the morning, and he noticed that he felt stronger when he murdered his next victim.

Soon he was addicted to this. It was easy to be led into temptation and to murder someone, from all the adrenaline of taking someone's life without them knowing why. It was also rewarding to realize that killing and drinking these people's blood was making Gerard feel like he had a superpower. And it wasn't that he just could kill several people and never get noticed; his superpower was all about the effects of drinking blood and feeling better.

This went on for a year, then two years, then a couple more, and suddenly Gerard was a hunter. He finished school at the age of eighteen and started learning the basics of the coal mining business, and kept helping his grandmother at the workshop. Then, at night, he got out of the house and went on his killing spree. He had a mind of his own. He belonged to himself. He did what he wanted by day, roaming the streets in that magnanimous pose that identified his family and staring at everybody with his predator eyes. There were millions of possible preys. They just needed to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

At the same time, Gerard worked on his research. He read medical reports about the properties and the singularities of blood, and read the stories and the legends about the obsession with blood, and everything there was to learn about the issue he was obsessed with. He still needed to find a way to feed his grandmother his blood cocktails, to see if it worked on her as well, but he had time. He could start by treating her with surprise snacks at the workshop, serving her different kind of drinks, every single one mixed with his secret ingredient. She always ate and drank them with that thankful smile of hers, no questions asked, and Gerard felt proud of himself. His plan was moving on with the best effects and the minimum suspicions, and he was growing stronger and hopefully younger next to his grandmother.

However, time passed by and Gerard was getting tired of the same methods and the same beverages. He even stopped killing as he did more research and, eventually, it started changing his mind, especially when he found a particular name associated with vampirism.

This Romanian name came with an old legend about a woman that became famous for her pettiness and narcissism. Her vanity went to the extreme that she changed clothes five or six times a day and that she spent countless hours in front of the mirror, admiring her expression, but that wasn't what triggered Gerard's enthusiasm. This woman loved to torture her maids, which soon revealed the rare personality of an obsessed woman. Her name was Elizabeth Bathory.

Along with her name in History came a legend. It said that, after slapping a maid and wounding her, the blood on Bathory's hand apparently made her skin look younger, whiter and even more translucent. In her time, the most famous alchemists told her that it was a clear sign of her nobility and that the blood had restored the beauty of her aging skin. Her obsession became an habit and, as many stories told, Bathory started bathing herself in blood. Her accomplices even testified that she looked more beautiful than ever after those blood baths, and Gerard was sure there was nothing that would make a ego rise as much as that kind of compliment. Gerard was certainly infatuated with the tales about this bloodthirsty tyrant.

For the past years, Gerard had been bloodthirsty as well and he felt ready to move on to a new phase of his plan. He just needed the perfect victim.

Once again, it hit him like an evil idea. Who would suspect of Gerard if his mother disappeared? Lately, she had been mostly alone, still grieving the loss of her husband. Maybe they had never spent a lot of time together, but when they did, Gerard knew they had great moments, as they had always spent since their youth. Gerard's father's death affected her deeply and she had even been medicated for over a year, due to her depression. She had stopped traveling and doing her usual things, and the family had been worried. Well, Gerard had to fake his own worry a bit, after he came out of his own trauma, but it had turned out well.

His mother started feeling better months ago. The doctors suspended her medication and she had gone back to her routine of traveling and being a kind woman. She was in her forties, but her beauty remained. Gerard knew it was because she had all the good genes, since his grandmother was her mother and they were very much alike. He just wasn't as close to his mother, and now his plan and his mother's destiny met on the same path.

Gerard turned twenty years old and the third phase of his plan started taking form. He was going to murder his mother as soon as she spent a few days at home, and he just needed to pull at the right strings and twist her heart right. He started by faking another traumatic experience, now about his age. He had stopped being a teenager and he suddenly had duties to tend to, and a business to run, and a family to look over, since his father had been missing for five years, assumed dead, and he was the rightful heir. He wanted to take advantage of his time while he was young; he didn't want to take that many responsibilities so suddenly.

Therefore, he faked a depressive behavior, staying in his room the whole day, refusing to eat, refusing to speak or even to sleep. He went out at night and didn't even kill, to not feel pleased in any way, and came back home after the sunrise and locked himself in all over again. His mother was out, traveling, but called very often. Gerard refused to talk to her. His little brother tried to engage him in daily activities, every responsibility aside, but Gerard refused every offer. His grandmother tried to cheer him up through art, or using her charm, or telling him it was alright to feel like that, but Gerard didn't budge. His plan was moving along quite successfully, but he never let any bit of his excitement show.

In the end, Gerard's mother came back home, his grandmother telling Gerard that she was coming back to help him deal with those issues. This made Gerard very excited, because his _Phase Three_ was progressing nicely. He had sacrificed himself for the past weeks, but the ends would justify the means after all. Gerard was sure of that.

His master plan consisted of locking himself up in the basement, shouting at his brother and grandmother that he wanted to drown in the darkness. He did so because he had heard that his mother was returning the next day, having overheard his grandmother say so over the phone. So when everybody was asleep in the upstairs level, Gerard spent the night preparing everything for the big moment. He brought two gigantic trash bags from the kitchen and the tools he would need, and prepped the bathroom by making sure that everything was in place. And the next morning he locked the bathroom door, having chosen that room because it had no windows, and heard his grandmother calling for him, then his brother, but he didn't make a single sound.

Then, the afternoon came and his mother arrived, parking her car in their garage. Gerard could hear her from the basement bathroom, the door now unlocked. He was still buried in the quietness and realized that his plan was moving on the way he wanted it to. He knew his grandmother and brother weren't at home, one at the workshop, the other at school, so it would be perfect.

"Gerard? It's mom. I'm home. Your grandmother told me you weren't feeling well?" he heard his mother say, right outside the bathroom door. Gerard inhaled and faked a shiver, trembling from head to toes. The door opened and he slumped his shoulders down, looking at his hands. There was blood on them and it was dripping to the floor. He hoped his mother would see it. "Gerard, are you alright?"

So she had seen it. Gerard faked a sob and whispered some nonsense, still looking down, until he heard his mother's steps coming closer. He forced his tears to flood his eyes and turned around to face her. He let her see the knife in his hand and the cut on his wrist, bleeding a little. "Mama, help me."

He tried to make his voice sound as miserable as he could and it seemed to work. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and moved to turn the tap on the sink on, but Gerard wrapped himself around her and she complied into a full hug. Gerard sobbed some more in her embrace as she squeezed him and shushed him, but there was a slight grin on his lips. He still had a knife in his hand and his mother didn't even notice when Gerard brought it up to the back of her neck.

 

**Fourteen.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America. _

In the interview room with the large mirror on the wall, Detective Toro is sitting in front of Gerard. His partner, Detective Schechter is standing behind him with his hands on the back of the chair and a cross expression on his face. Beside them, sitting on the second chair, is Dr. Iero with his usual white coat over the unbuttoned collar of a shirt and that excited expression of his. The two detectives are the most imposing characters in the room, though, with their grim expressions and with how long they've been interrogating Gerard today. They are in charge of Gerard's case, but they have never stayed in the interview room for so long, especially not to repeat their questions.

"We found one body buried in the woods behind Way Manor, in an advanced stage of decomposition," says Detective Toro in a harsh tone of voice. He spins the brown folder on the table around and opens it to Gerard, showing him several pictures. Gerard knows what they represent. It's his family mansion and the woods behind it, and also the only corpse Gerard buried in there. He knew better than to bury his victims' bodies in a place where the Police could easily relate to him; well, maybe he had read that that was how Bathory had been accused of mass murder in her own time.

"You say you killed dozens of people, but we only have one body," Detective Schechter intervenes this time. His voice is rarely heard in these interviews. Detective Toro asks most of the questions, while Detective Schechter listens to the conversations between his partner and their current suspect. Today, however, he has something to say. "Where are the other bodies, Mr. Way? You better tell us the truth this time."

"I have never lied to you," Gerard replies calmly. He knows he's telling the truth; if they don't believe him, that's not his problem. Still, he picks up a picture, one that shows what should be a dead face, but is merely a decomposed one. "This is my father's body. He was my first victim, in 1992, and the only one I buried. I've told you this before you got Dr. Iero here. Why do I have to repeat it?"

"Because you're not making any sense!" Detective Toro slaps one hand on the table, creating a strident noise that echoes in the room. His tone of voice is equally loud and anxious. "Where are the other bodies? Who are the other victims? Why did you start killing? Your confession means nothing to me. It makes me laugh from how delusional you sound when you say you killed dozens of people at random."

"I'm not delusional," Gerard replies, sitting back on the chair. He's relaxed because he knows that he is saying the absolute truth. "I know what I've done and I've told you about it. You just don't want to listen to me. Check your records and every person found at Ridge Road, read every single one of them and look for wounds on the neck, right across the jugulars; find the records saying that over half of their blood was drained and it was not on the crime scene, or the area surrounding the victims. You will realize that I'm behind every single one of them."

"And what did you do to the blood?" Detective Toro questions him, squinting.

"I drank it," Gerard replies, rolling his eyes. He's saying this for the umpteenth time.

"Right. We've heard that story before." Both detectives scoff, simultaneously. They always seem very coordinated in these immediate responses to Gerard's words.

Dr. Iero intervenes, though, saying, "It's been said that human blood does have rejuvenating properties. It's been studied and proven, but nobody wants to release an article about it to avoid self-harm, I believe."

"Or mass murder," Detective Schechter points out, earning a nod from his partner. He doesn't add anything else.

So Detective Toro speaks up for him, collecting all the pictures from the table. "Since you're not telling us anything, we're gonna leave you with Dr. Iero because he's been making you talk, and maybe his experience with nutjobs will get you to state the truth. Don't think we'll be convinced of your nonsense. It doesn't mean anything to me, Mr. Way."

As the detectives leave, with the same grim expression on their faces, Dr. Iero leaves after them, telling Gerard that he will be right back. He comes back a few minutes later with a cup of coffee, offering it to Gerard. When he drinks it, he feels dizzy and talks for another hour or more.

 

**Five.**  
 _Year: 1997.  
Location: United States of America. _

Gerard didn't remove the knife from his mother's neck just yet. He licked at the blood that came out of the wound and stripped her body, lying her down on the bathtub and observing her for a minute. She still looked alive, because her skin was still its natural color and her eyes were wide and piercing as usual. Soon, though, Gerard removed the knife and watched the blood pour openly down the porcelain, before stabbing her thigh and cutting deep through her flesh. Then he added a larger portion of his favorite anti-clotting agent.

As his mother was being drained slowly, he undressed himself and entered the bathtub, sitting on the surface facing his mother's dead body. It was starting to get pale and obviously bloodless. In the end, when the stream slowed down and eventually stopped, Gerard wasn't submerged or anything, but he did bathe in the blood using the washing sponge he had brought with him earlier. The crimson fluid was still warm and the smell flooded Gerard's nostrils, fulfilling more than one fantasy. This moment triggered every single one of his physical senses and initiated the first step on _Phase Three: Blood Baths._

Hours later, after the blood turned cold and dark, it was kind of a waste to watch it go down the drain, so Gerard thought to himself that he would need a different strategy for his next murders. He thought about it while he sawed his mother's body to pieces and burned them in the woods after dark. He didn't come to a conclusion, even as he watched the last flames die while the sun rose behind the trees.

He spent the next few months doing research, but hid it behind his next spree of faking a depressive behavior. He kept avoiding his paternal family's business to maintain his pretense, even more as he grieved over having lost another parent. He did his best to console his grandmother, though, because she had lost her daughter, but the unfortunate side of it all was that his dear Grandma fell sick and her doctors drowned her in medication. It hurt him horribly.

His little brother traveled abroad, stating that he couldn't stand the pain of losing both parents and Gerard didn't see him for months. He had to deal with his grandmother alone, but that wasn't a problem. He loved her very much and would always take care of her however he could.

In the meantime, he was still going to Ridge Road with a knife and his empty bottles to find more victims. He hated killing while he was doing research, because it always felt like a waste of time when he found out a better method, but he knew he couldn't stop his plan, in order to feed his grandmother the usual blood cocktails. This time, Gerard used some of his bottled blood to mix in her baths, treating her skin as well like this and, if she ever asked about the color of the water, he would blame it on bath salts and comforted her by saying what he felt, that he would not abandon her and that he would grow young with her until the end of time.

Finally, months after murdering his own mother, Gerard reached a high point in his research and moved on to _Phase Four: Double Murders_. He started going out in his best outfit and arranging threesomes with couples, mostly tourists, since his plan involved taking them to the Way Manor and taking locals would possibly trigger suspicions.

In the house, he had a room prepared with a king-sized bed and all kinds of sex toys for their fun and, when they were almost out asleep, he suggested a shower and killed them both, draining one into the bathtub and the other's blood into water bottles. And of course, he only murdered every three or four months to not raise suspicions in any way, and he never went to the same nightclub twice in a row to avoid being recognized.

It was the perfect plan.

 

**Fifteen.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America. _

"Didn't your brother end up dead as well?" Dr. Iero asks Gerard, still in the interview room. And of course, in this loquacious mood after the doctor's coffee, he can't stop himself from talking.

"Yes, in 2002. In his grief for our mother's disappearance, Michael traveled abroad and didn't come back until 2001. I had been on _Phase Four_ for about two years and a half, and it was working but slowly. So I started doing research again and realized I had been stupid, because what I really needed was younger people's blood cells. And a couple of weeks after that conclusion, Michael came home. I took it as a sign."

"So you killed him?"

"Yes. He came back in the summer of 2001 and first, I fought with him about leaving me alone with Grandma when she was so miserable after losing her only daughter, but then I understood how I could use him, so I tamed him and worked on my relationship with him. I planned every step of the way and stopped hunting. For my twenty-fifth birthday, in April, I treated myself with a murder. I drank Michael's blood and carved his body; he was the first human meat I actually cooked. It tasted awful, but I worked around these Chinese traditions I had found on my research and used some imported spices and in the end, I came up with very tasty meals."

Gerard grins widely. "It was awesome."

 

 **Sixteen.**  
Today Frank was pretty busy at the hospital, and he had three appointments at the underground clinic. He hates these busy days, because they leave him moody and tired, and he hates feeling like shit. As he takes his white coat off and hangs it in his locker, he takes his red bowl from his co-worker, Jamia. She has her own red bowl, both of them containing equal parts of the Secret they have been sharing for many years, and Frank exits the room with her and eventually, they leave the clinic together.

Jamia is perfect for this place. She works a nine-to-five job as well, only coming to the clinic when they have an appointment and therefore when Frank needs her. He practically watched her grow up, having known her when she was a patient herself, and he's very proud of serving this clinic beside her. She knows exactly how to console their new patients and make them feel at home. She's amazing in what she does and Frank loves her commitment to this place.

Afterwards, as he walks to his car, Frank thinks about what's next. He tells himself that his day is over, but finds himself thinking about his interviews at the Police station, more specifically about Gerard's.

Frank is completely astounded, impressed by the tale Gerard has been telling him for the past days. The drug Frank puts in the coffees he always offers to Gerard is untraceable in the human system and it never has secondary effects, while being very effective in making people talk. It's something some of Frank's friends developed back in college and it has never been released in the market, but Frank is very happy about having access to it through his friends' lab. He serves it to Gerard in these offered beverages and so far, Gerard hasn't suspected of anything and the stories he tells when he's drug-induced are amazing. Frank thinks he has found the perfect person to be his partner in crime, as they both enjoy the thought of staying young and living ever after.

Frank has found people that are obsessed with age and looks everywhere over the years, but none of them have been a better surprise than Gerard. He's reckless but methodic, and doesn't seem to care if the end justifies the means or not. Frank loves that and he wants to think of a plan to convince Gerard to join Frank's very own life quest.

And Frank knows just the right person to help him, to save Gerard from prison and continue his legacy. Well, minus the murders and the troubles with the Police, but Frank could use a genius like Gerard to live an exciting life.

 

 **Seventeen.**  
Frank doesn't go back to the Police station until three days later. He had to work the night shift and had the next day off as usual, but when he does come back, Gerard seems very angry in the interview room. He's even handcuffed to the table and there's an officer in the room, and that's out of character for Gerard. Frank is still in the contiguous room, watching his _patient_ through the glass, wondering what might have happened to cause this situation. Ordering Gerard to be taken to a different interview room, one where is only the door and the lamp on the ceiling and where they can be alone and not spied on, so that they keep this conversation confidential with no strings attached, Frank gets a few odd looks from the Police officers. Still, they obey him.

In a private interview room, Gerard remains handcuffed to the metal table and Frank goes in, revealing himself at last. He sends the officer that's still in the room away and sits on the table, right next to Gerard, to ask, "What's wrong?"

He responds immediately, in a bold tone of voice and with such animosity that Frank has never seen in him before. Maybe this is his murderous persona, after all. He says, furiously, "These fucking officers and how they think no one's better than them. I've been in a common cell since I was arrested and these drunk guys or junkies come and go and threaten me, and these fucking perverted old guys think they can have my ass just because I'm young and thin-built. Then everybody is surprised when I break their hands if they dare touching me."

"You've gotten violent during your stay?" Frank asks calmly, trying to pass that feeling on to the other.

"Well yeah! This drunken fatass guy thought he'd have fun grabbing my ass, so maybe I broke his hand. And then his fucking pals tried to fight me and I think I broke someone's nose before the officers came in and grabbed me and stuck me in a single holding cell." Gerard scoffs, looking to the side where Frank isn't sitting on the table. "I'm better off alone, anyway."

"That makes sense," Frank says without thinking. He explains immediately. "I mean, it explains the handcuffs and the guard in the room. They're avoiding losing control of the situation."

Gerard shrugs, shifting one wrist in the handcuff and rubbing at it with the free hand. Frank sees a bruise on his arm and deduces that the officers used force to stop Gerard. He is in no position to question that, though, so he moves on to what really brought him here. It's been a couple of days since he took Gerard's side in this whole case and he wants to let Gerard know about what's going on. "Anyway, I heard from Detective Toro and they're moving on with your process. I think that, after I gave them my preliminary report stating that you are in fact mentally impaired, they're just trying to get rid of this case so they can prove something to the masses. I mean, you have been all over the news since they arrested you."

Gerard shrugs first, but then he says, "They were here yesterday telling me I'm going to be formally accused of several murders." He's still rubbing at his handcuffed wrist. Frank stops him and takes a look at it, not finding anything apart from a rash from the metal that might be too tight, but it's nothing to be concerned about. As he does so, Gerard adds, "I think he said twenty, even though I've confessed over seventy victims."

"Well, twenty is still a high number. It's well past the limit for serial killing." Gerard nods at Frank's words and surprisingly doesn't move his wrist away from where Frank is grabbing it. Frank is barely grasping at it, but Gerard doesn't lower it just yet while they stare into each other's eyes. There is something flickering in Gerard's gaze, but he doesn't make a fuss about it. He just puts his wrist back down and asks, "Do you have a lawyer?"

Gerard looks up at him with a grin on his face. He says, in a curious voice, "I thought you were supposed to evaluate my mental stability? Not my defense or whatever."

"Officially, yeah, but you know I'm on your side. And I know someone who can be a great asset for your case." Frank admits this with a sigh, knowing he will have to explain himself very well. He's ready for that, actually, having practiced his arguments before he came in here. He wants to ask Gerard something very specific, considering their kind of mutual obsessions in life.

"Well, all I want is a short sentence, even though I'm not sure how long my grandmother will last without the treatment I arranged for her," Gerard tells him in what Frank can only deduce is a sad tone of voice. He is aware that everything Gerard has done since he was fifteen years old, all the victims he has murdered, was all for his grandmother and to keep her healthy. So far, Frank knows it's working, but he did a little research of his own and found out that Gerard's grandmother has been in the hospital pretty much since he was arrested and stopped giving her whatever 'treatment' he had her on.

Frank smirks, though, perfectly aware that this is his opportunity to strike. He says, "I can help you with that. I've been in the medical business for long enough and I know a lot of influential people. I can—"

"Why would you offer me help?" Gerard inquires immediately. He's frowning like he doesn't really believe that Frank wants to help him in this. "What's the catch?"

"There isn't one," Frank replies honestly, getting up from the table and sitting down on the chair on the opposite side of the table from Gerard's. He never stops looking into the other's eyes. "All I might ask of you is that you stay true to yourself, to your values and most importantly to your quest. I can even help your grandmother while you're in here."

Gerard blinks at him, finally confused. Frank bites the inside of his cheek to avoid a smirk. Then, after a tiny moment of silence, Gerard asks, "Why would you help her, though? And how?"

"Well, I have my own secrets," Frank answers mysteriously, making sure Gerard is as confused as he can get. It's the best reaction to get, since he's about to open up a bit about his own obsessions. "You see, when I was younger, my mother shared a very ancient secret with me. And I've been using it until now, but it's not making me any older."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How old do you think I am?" Frank asks, smirking full-on now. He's about to add a mysterious revelation to his speech, one that will certainly make Gerard comply to Frank's idea right away.

For now, Gerard just shrugs, saying, "Thirty? Thirty-five?" He shrugs again.

However, Frank shakes his head and weaves a hand through his short, dark hair. It doesn't mean anything in particular, but it adds a little suspense and he hopes that it will have the effect he desires. Finally, he stares into Gerard's eyes and says,

"I am eighty years old."

 

**One.**  
 _Year: 1942 - 1969.  
Location: Italy / United States of America. _

Franco Iero suspected that his mother had some sort of secret. She had always looked so beautiful with her soft, shiny skin, her glimmering eyes and her sculpted body. His father was equally good-looking, but Franco didn't see him very often because he was in the army, and so the connection between them wasn't as deep as with his mother. And he knew he had a gorgeous mother, although he hated when his high school friends' commented on her body, but loved that they envied her looks and wished that they had a mom like that, gorgeous and young and above it all, kind.

At the age of sixteen, his father died in the big war and he watched his mother waste away in weight and beauty due to her grief. But one day, he asked her what was wrong and how she had gone from gorgeous to a walking stick, and she told him she was grieving her dead husband very badly. She said they had lived together for many years, more than Franco could imagine, and that their moments together had always been very special. Then, she shared the family's Secret with him…

There was a special recipe that guaranteed him the young looks for a long time and, although Franco had always hated the taste of her special soups and dumplings and steaks, she had always made him eat everything for a reason. He had been eating their Secret since he was very young and his mother assured him that it would guarantee him a long, healthy life, just like hers. However, with his father's death, she admitted that she had lost her faith in everything and, although her Secret remained, she didn't feel like moving on with it.

Franco didn't feel like his mother was abandoning him. He understood. His parents had always been a close couple and he didn't feel any inferior in their love when his mother told him that she was sending him to America, to live with his father's emigrated relatives. She said she wanted to grieve a lot harder than she was at the moment and sending him to a different country would guarantee him a happy life. Franco didn't fight with her, because he knew she was thinking of the best for him. It would be hard to leave his mother behind, as she was feeling so low and depressed over this loss in their family, but he was old enough to respect her wishes. He smiled at her as she told him how much he deserved a good future in America and as she saw him off at the port.

She hugged him tight and told him how much she would always love him, adding, _"Io sarò sempre qui per te, Piccolo."_

_She would always be there for him…_

He wanted to continue his mother's secret, but he was too young, so once in America he used his family's contacts to change his name to Frank, in order to adapt better to the new culture. He finished high school like any other kid his age and managed to be in the lucky group of students that made it to university. He went to Med School, since he had always been fond of taking care of people and even helping his hometown's _Dottore_ during several summers. Years later, he went to Grad School and took a degree in Psychiatry and, when he finished, he had credentials enough to get a job in a public hospital and open his first clinic, clandestinely, to never let his mother's secret die. In her honor, he wanted to be like her and live a long life, beautifully.

More years passed and Frank went to Grad School again, for a degree in Psychology this time. Since he was very fond of that medical area of studies and his secret clinic was actually running smoothly, Frank decided to work full-time at a hospital and then go back to university to study some more, namely Criminology so he could eventually work with the most feared people in the world and learn from them. Prisoners and mentally ill people fed Frank's intellectual hunger perfectly and suddenly, he was living the double life he had dreamed of.

He had a regular job as a doctor at the Central Hospital and was a consultant at the facility to mentally ill people, and then he had this or that appointment at his secret clinic. He had learned the tricks of that family Secret from his mother, of course, but he had also studied the female anatomy thoroughly in university so that he could do this without hurting anyone. He didn't want that. He was supposedly helping these women who had to deal with unwanted pregnancies. He took care of that issue for them.

He only shared his family Secret with one person.

Her name was Jamia and she was his patient at the clinic for three years in a row, in the late sixties. She once told him in confidence that her life was pointless and meaningless and that she was wasting herself away quickly, but Frank treated her with a piece of his secret. He invited her to his house days after her third appointment at the clinic and showed her his mother's special recipe. He fed her the dumplings and, just like him, she hated their appalling taste. Then, Frank proceeded to tell her the effects of eating this food. He finished with, "I'll be forty-five next year."

She blinked his eyes at him and gaped. "How is that possible? You look fresh out of college!"

"With this secret, I can live for how long I want. I don't even get sick," he revealed to her, with a smirk on his lips.

"But what is in this thing?"

Frank showed her to his kitchen and she gasped, shocked at what she saw in the red bowl he had brought from the clinic after her appointment there.

 

**Eighteen.**  
 _Year: 2005.  
Location: United States of America. _

Two days later, Gerard is still thinking about the same thing. Dr. Iero is _eighty years old_ , even though he barely looks older than Gerard, who is not even thirty. The doctor's eyes are profound, but that doesn't mean anything when he's so youthful and good-looking in appearance. His skin barely holds any marks and there are no wrinkles that one would expect to see in an elderly person such as an eighty-year-old man.

Dr. Iero's blank expression back in that interview room told Gerard that he was speaking the truth, but it's not possible that someone who seems to be fresh out of Med School can be that old. It's just not conceivable and Gerard still feels the same shiver from the other day down his spine. He admits that there might be a look of wisdom in the doctor's eyes, but he would never take it as aging. He would take it as an experienced life of a doctor, having seen an excruciating amount of bad things, since he did say in their first meeting that he had been collaborating with both hospitals and prisons since he studied Criminology in Grad School. But now Gerard has a sudden idea; the profound gaze he reads in Dr. Iero's eyes is pretty much the same he has always seen in his grandmother's eyes. Still, he doesn't understand this, until he realizes that…

Dr. Iero has a formula to slow down aging.

Gerard spent the past thirteen years murdering people at random, trying to figure out a way to grow young next to his grandmother, while this doctor has a secret somewhere to _not age_. For the first time in his life, Gerard feels that he is finally getting his cure for getting old.

And he must have it _now_.

So it's not much of a surprise when he asks to see Dr. Iero as soon as possible. He simply stopped being the Police doctor who is evaluating Gerard's mental state, and became his most precious ally. Gerard can help his grandmother through this doctor and he's going to _live forever_ because of him. This is going to be massive.

 

 **Nineteen.**  
Gerard is waiting again in the interview room without a mirror to another room. He's no longer handcuffed to the table, but touches his bottom lip because it's still panging and his whole mouth feels tender from last night's beating. Apparently one victim at Ridge Road was a cop and, once the officers found out, they treated Gerard with a violent gift. His side is hurting too, and he remembers those bruises on his lower back that make it impossible to sit comfortably. But today he has an extra interview with Dr. Iero and Gerard is very excited, because after that revelation about the doctor's age, a Police officer came in to the room and said that their interview was over and he didn't have the time to ask the proper questions.

Finally, the door unlocks with the usual electronic buzz and it opens, as Dr. Iero comes in. Some other guy comes in after him, wearing a neat dark grey suit with a striped tie and apparently shiny cufflinks and an anxious expression on his face. Dr. Iero offers him the only chair left available and says immediately, "Gerard, this is Dr. James Dewees and he's going to be your lawyer."

Gerard frowns, not really seeing the point of trusting another stranger for no reason whatsoever. It's true that he trusts Dr. Iero and only just met him as well, but he has the secret formula that he wants. Plus, Gerard has already called one of his family attorneys. "Why can't I have my own goddamn lawyer?"

Dr. Iero smirks, with that knowing expression of his. Gerard defines it only now, because it was the same one he was wearing as he told Gerard about his age. The doctor says, "No one will defend you like James here." He puts a hand on the new guy's shoulder, adding, "He has a secret too."

Gerard hums, understanding now. He will have to make up an excuse to dismiss that family attorney he already called, but he can always not call again and leave it at that. Gerard has told the other man that he had been arrested and where he was being held, but the man hadn't come to the Police station yet.

"Call me James." The new lawyer smiles formally and stretches out a hand for Gerard to shake. Gerard takes it as he continues, "Dr. Iero is right. I can help you like no one other in this situation and eventually, you will be able to help us too. We could use a fierce partner and Iero found you by accident, but from your profile and Iero's descriptions, I think you're perfect for the job."

Dr. Iero grins. "What a wonderful partner you'll be. I mean — it's not that we _need_ someone to work with us, but we like meeting unforgettable people like you. You've got this passionate motive that has been making you kill for over a decade. You started when you were just a kid! And you know our Secret will help your quest of living forever. And we can help your grandmother as well, although her initiation will most likely have to be stronger than usual due to her age, but we can work around that. And you know what the best part is?" He pauses.

"You won't have to kill again."

Gerard hums, doubtfully. Does this mean that Dr. Iero's secret is of some other nature? Could it be a supernatural thing? Because Gerard has never believed in that crap, otherwise he would have tried to engage in necromancy spells instead of setting himself on a murder spree.

However, Dr. Iero doesn't seem to be finished just yet. He puts his palms on the metal table and leans forward, closer to Gerard. Their eyes lock in an intense gaze from the doctor, while Gerard tries to hold on despite his doubts and skepticism, but he listens to what Dr. Iero says next. He listens very closely. "I have a very special clinic and James has his well-paid job, and we have a great life and amazing friends, but you have something that can… be useful."

"Which is?"

"You have a shop, a butcher's," he replies, wiggling his eyebrows. Gerard doesn't find it funny and he doesn't even react, not understanding at what point his old shop will be useful. His name is probably out on the street and everywhere on the news for the worst reasons, so he doubts that his shop will ever sell meat or anything else again. But Dr. Iero is convinced of something else entirely. "It's the perfect business to spread ours."

Gerard frowns and insists on staying out of this for now. He asks, "What is this secret anyway? I'm not gonna accept anything without knowing that."

"Let's just say we have the key to everlasting life," James answers mysteriously, making Dr. Iero lean even closer to Gerard. His eyes look huge and intimidating from up close.

Gerard swallows with difficulty as the doctor adds, in a low, quite evil voice, "The big question is, do _you_ want to live forever?"

Gerard inhales, considering. He doesn't know what this Secret is and they won't tell him, but maybe he should take the offer. There isn't much to lose now, and Dr. Iero did compliment him on his goals and his interest in slowing down aging, and he did say this Secret could help Gerard's grandmother, so Gerard can't really say no to that. He has already been formally accused of murder and some day, he'll be judged in court and most definitely sent to prison for a long time, and his grandmother won't be helped unless he has the right allies. So what can he do?

"What happens if I agree with this plan?"

"Well, I'll write a report about your mental instability, mainly about dementia and a compulsive obsession about murder, and maybe we can't fight the twenty murders the detectives can relate to you, because of the bodies and the files from Ridge Road and your confession, but we can reduce your sentence. We can say you were triggered by hallucinations to either keep killing or imagine that you had the ability to kill. It won't be easy, but it'll help and we've got a great sense of argumentation."

"Frank is very persuasive, trust me," James points out with a wiggle of his eyebrows. It seems like he has some of Dr. Iero's own quirks.

"But how will that help?" Gerard asks, still not believing that this whole thing will actually work and make everything better. He just doesn't understand a few details, but he can ask about it. "Even if they don't send me to prison, they'll lock me up in a mental hospital."

"Well, there are two facilities for the mentally insane under this jurisdiction, but they only send convicted prisoners to one of them. I obviously work there, since I collaborate with the Police in evaluating their inmates." Dr. Iero grins at Gerard, pulling back from the table.

Gerard leans back against the chair and feels it digging into the bruises on his back, but right now he has something else that he must focus on. "Is this some sort of mind game? Because I feel like you're cornering me in this, making it sound like I really can't say no."

"Yeah, I don't think you can," James puts in, straightening up on his seat and looking straight into Gerard's eyes. "If you're not with us, you're against us."

"And with our goals in common, it would be a waste to not work as a team," Dr. Iero says, assertively. His eyes are not as close to Gerard's as before, but he still looks very threatening. "I'd hate to go back to the Police's side and get you lifetime. It'd be a shame to waste a brilliant mind like yours."

Gerard deflates, not really sure if he would like to have such wise, influential men for enemies. "Alright, I guess there's no other way out of this, but I won't say yes without one detail. Would you just tell me what this fucking Secret is?"

 

 **Twenty.**  
"Is she here?"

"She's ready, Doctor," Jamia tells him with her most assertive nod. He knows what this means.

Frank goes into the room where they tend to every single patient. The woman this time is young and she is alone in the room, lying on the stretcher waiting for Frank. She seems to be breathing pretty easily and he knows this is a good sign. This is going to go smoothly today.

Checking every detail about this patient's condition with his co-worker, Frank browses the instruments on the proper tray and certifies that he has everything he needs, his rubber gloves, the mask for his face, and the adrenaline shot and the catheter for the procedure. Then, he spares a word to the woman on the stretcher, over her naked, bent knees, telling her that the pain might be intense, but that it is preferable to perform this without any drugs. He can't risk endangering the fetus's nutrition, but he doesn't tell her this; he just shares a knowing wink with Jamia.

In the end, he tells their patient, "Just relax. Everything will be alright."

 

 **Twenty Two.**  
The next time Frank goes to 'interview' Gerard at the Police station, he is sitting on the floor, all curled up in a corner of the private interview room. Frank walks in alone and sees that Gerard's wrists are handcuffed to each other and he's looking down. He crouches next to Gerard and touches his arm, trying to talk to him, but Gerard turns his face away.

"What's going on?" Frank asks, concerned about what might have happened.

There is no reply and Gerard doesn't respond to his touch either. Surely, this couldn't be about the fact that Frank had been slightly elusive about his Secret, only telling Gerard about his mother's special recipe but not the main ingredient in it. Frank can't have it this way, though, so he insists with Gerard. "Okay, sit up on the chair. I can't interview you on the floor like this."

He tries to get Gerard up, but he refuses to comply. "C'mon, Gerard."

"What's the point? I'm done with this. Let the guards beat me up into a pulp, I don't fucking care anymore." Gerard shies away from Frank's touch again. Frank watches him with incredulous eyes because he has always seemed to be a determined man, but now he seems to be giving up.

"Did the guards hurt you again?" he asks, but Gerard just shrugs. Still, Frank is resolute to get something out of his 'patient'. "Tell me what's wrong."

 

 **Twenty One.**  
Gerard didn't know day from night. He'd been moved to a single holding cell and it was dark in there, with no windows whatsoever. There was just the bench by the wall and the commode on the opposite wall. Gerard was brought here after the incident with the perverted fat guy at the common cell, but he was better off alone anyway.

He spent most of his time sitting on the floor, with his head over his arms on the bench, thinking about what Dr. Iero had told him about his secret and how it was very pleasant to finally come across the secret formula to not get old. Although Gerard still didn't know what was in this special recipe, it seemed a much better idea than killing dozens of people and ending up as a convicted prisoner. It was also a great idea to take care of his grandmother, so Gerard gave Dr. Iero her name and he said he would look for her and let Gerard know about her condition. That had been three days before and the only thing Gerard could do was waiting for Dr. Iero's reply.

Gerard could hear sounds from the common cell and soon an officer came to the door of his holding cell and called his name. When Gerard looked up, he saw the tray of food in the guard's hands and his stomach churned automatically, from just thinking of what he'd have to eat this time. He had to, anyway, because who knew what would happen if he didn't eat anything despite its bad quality. The officer didn't move, eating a chocolate bar as he stood on the other side of the metal bars, but Gerard kept his eyes down to ignore the fact that the guard was teasing him about the food.

When he wasn't hungry anymore, although he didn't know if it was from the comfort of food in his stomach or from the foul smell coming into his nostrils, Gerard pushed the tray back to the door and sat on the bench, all curled up. The officer got the tray and closed the door, punching the bars afterward and startling Gerard. He said,

"I've got some bad news for you." Gerard looked up, but to glare at him. He didn't care to engage in any conversation with an officer, because the last time he did it earned him a beating for absolutely no reason. "Dr. Iero called and ordered us to tell you that your grandmother died three nights ago."

Gerard got up immediately. "What?!"

The officer grinned and left with the tray, heartlessly. He was most likely unaware of what he'd just said, or maybe he was just really insensitive. Gerard's Grandma had died? How was that possible? How did that make Gerard feel? Apart from mournful and angry at the stupid man who had just said that like it didn't hurt Gerard, he was sure that there was nothing else worth fighting for. Without his treatment, she had succumbed to her misery and Gerard hadn't even been by her side while the disease got through with her.

Suddenly, nothing really mattered anymore and Gerard curled up on the bench again. He didn't care anymore.

 

 **Twenty Three.**  
Gerard is in the private interview room, just blank walls and the metal door, waiting for something to happen. Dr. Iero comes in with a red bowl in his hands, with James in tow, and the door closes behind them. There are two chairs at the table and they both sit down, but Gerard is the first to talk. He's very sure of what he wants to say today. In fact, he has been waiting for them to arrive with his foot thumping against the floor in his anxiety. "I don't want to help anymore."

"We already talked about this," James says calmly, with the same eye-roll from the other day, when they had talked in the Visitors' Room after Gerard had requested to see him. "I understand that you lost your grandmother and that your quest suddenly stopped making sense, since you can't look after her anymore, but think about it this way—"

"No. I want out. I don't know the Secret anyway."

_"Gerard."_

Dr. Iero's voice is stern and Gerard looks up at him. "You are the most determined person I have ever met and you assertively admitted that you never thought if the end would justify your means. I understand that your main goal is over, gone with your grandmother, but you can avenge her death. You can let the world know that her disease did not beat you. You're still strong and I am giving you an opportunity to achieve your fucking cure. Isn't that what you've been looking for since you were fifteen? You murdered your own family! You set yourself on a quest against aging and nothing ever held you back, so why stop now? I even have an easier way to do this. Do you really want to spend countless years in prison, wallowing in self-pity and grief? Or do you wanna join us and _not age_?"

Gerard is left blinking at Dr. Iero. He did say a lot of important things and Gerard doesn't really want to rot in prison. Dr. Iero has Gerard in his hands because he promised he would share all the details about his family Secret today and Gerard knows it lies inside the red bowl, and he also said that Gerard will finally get his cure for getting old. He'd wanted it for his grandmother, but Dr. Iero was right. He should keep going to honor her and not let her have died in vain. He had made enough mistakes already by freaking out about the disease and killing more and more for two or three years and leaving clues behind his 'work'. In the end, he had been caught and his redemption was to move on with this. He should continue his plan.

Gerard nods, convinced that this is for the best. "I don't want my Grandma to have died in vain."

"Good."

Gerard points at the red bowl. "Are you letting me in on that secret or not?"

Gerard is back. He wants this more than anything and, if he must join a team to fight aging, he fucking will. It's just another phase in this plan that is over ten years old. He'll call it _Phase Six: Iero Secret._

Dr. Iero grabs the red bowl at last and opens it, showing it to Gerard. Inside, he finds six rolls of a light golden color, apparently breadcrumbed and fried, and the smell coming from them is rather pleasant. He realizes it's a mix of vegetables and meat and the oil they were fried on, but he doesn't understand how this can hold the key to stop him from aging. "This is it? This is the big Secret?"

"It's only one way of cooking it, of course," Dr. Iero says with a grin upon his face. His eyes are shining like he's very proud of finally sharing this with Gerard. "I can serve the Secret however I want and this was easier to cook and it's easier to eat. As you can imagine, I can't bring a fork in here."

Gerard nods and picks one of the rolls, taking a first bite carefully. It's not that it's hot; it's just that he doesn't know how it will taste or how much he will like it. It actually tastes really good; it's spicy and creamy, and Gerard delights himself with that first mouthful. He looks down at the roll, then up at Dr. Iero goggle-eyed, and both the doctor and James smirk at him. They know exactly what Gerard is eating, after all.

Dr. Iero says, "Well, since you seem to be enjoying it so much, I'll tell you the whole story. My mother had always been very beautiful and young-looking and, when my father died in the war, she told me she had a secret to look like that at her age. She shared it with me, because she didn't want to keep it with her for much longer, since my father was gone from her life. I came to America that same year and I was lucky enough to go to University, and I took several grades in college and afterwards in Grad School. I opened my first clinic in 1957 and—"

"Shit." Gerard mumbles through his mouthful, thinking again about Dr. Iero's revelation about this age. Eighty years old is not a joke and this exposition he's making right now only makes it the more real. He had taken _several degrees_ in college _and_ Grad School by 1957. Shit.

"Do you still want out of this secret?" Dr. Iero asks, amused. There's a smile on his face now and Gerard gazes at it, realizing that he really is getting himself into a team that treasures everlasting life. So of course Gerard shakes his head in response to that question.

"Yeah, you might as well just keep eating," James says, smirking a little of his own. Gerard wonders if he's as old as Dr. Iero, or older, since he certainly looks so. He doesn't ask about it, but maybe his face shows something because James says, "I met Frank less than a decade ago. I kind of still look my age, but I've noticed a nice difference. I haven't aged. Nothing happens."

"Unless you live long enough to see the difference," Dr. Iero intervenes, smirking. Gerard blinks at him, still incredulous about this miracle. It's much more than a secret. He observes the doctor closely, as much as he can with a table in between them, and he still doesn't look like he's older than Gerard. It can't be true. There must be a dark side to this Secret and, in fact, Gerard hasn't actually asked what is in this food. He does so now.

"Well, it's all about the clinic I've had since 1957. I've opened others in the different countries that I lived in, but every single one of those clinics serve women if they want to have an abortion. Me being a doctor and knowing a woman's anatomy pretty well, I have been performing them for fifty years and it never gets old. I don't ask these women for a lot of money, because what I really want comes from inside them. I keep their fetuses and bring them home in these thermal bowls and then I cook them."

Dr. Iero says this so quickly that Gerard barely has time to react. He feels nauseated and drops the fried roll back into the bowl, pushing it away with one hand. So this family Secret is… dead babies? Gerard isn't sure how he can deal with this. He has been a murderer for thirteen years, but he never hurt children and although unborn, these fetuses' Secret creeps him out a lot. He doesn't know what to do anymore. For now, he just stares at the contents of the bowl on the table and feels his stomach churning with discomfort.

"What?" Dr. Iero questions him, making Gerard look up at him because he can't possibly expect Gerard to just accept this cruel truth.

"There's a dead baby in this. How can you—"

"Don't think about where this came from. Think about the effects it will have on you," the doctor replies, like it's the most common thing to include in one's diet. Gerard shakes his head and uses his body to push the chair back a bit, but Dr. Iero isn't finished yet. "It's easy to get used to it. You have been murdering people at random for a quest, and look where it got you. This is how it always ends; someone always sees something or a criminal always leaves a clue behind that ends up getting him caught."

"And also, don't you feel better knowing that the meat you're eating won't be missed?"

 

 **Twenty Four.**  
In the private interview room with nothing except the door and the lamp on the ceiling, Gerard sits in front of James, who is telling him about what will happen from this day on.

"Detective Toro and Detective Schechter will come in here to tell you that you've been formally accused of twenty one murders. They have the pictures of your father's body and the files form those Ridge Road murders you _supposedly_ told them to find. They will most likely ask you to write a confession on these murders, but I think you shouldn't do that. Let them have their forensic evidence because there is no way to connect those murders to you. Except your father's, but we can work around that in court," he says slowly, pausing so that Gerard can nod at him in understanding.

"Then you will be transferred today because you can only stay in a holding cell for a few days. You'll be going to county jail where you will wait for your trial. I'll be coming to visit you there once a week, so we can delineate the strategy we'll be presenting in court and I'll tell you how the process is moving on, if we'll have a jury, who's the prosecutor and what we can use against him, and so on," he finishes.

Nodding, Gerard asks, "How long will I stay there?"

"A really long time, I'm afraid," James replies with an assertive nod. "They want to get rid of this case quickly, to make people know that they can act fast and do justice in due time, but most cases of murder take almost two years to get to court. So I can't tell you for sure how long you'll be kept in jail."

"Frank won't be visiting you there, though," James says in a comfortable tone of voice. Dr. Iero had become _Frank_ at the last meeting, after Gerard's first reconnaissance of the Iero Secret. It's only a minor detail, but it made Gerard much more comfortable around the doctor. It means that Gerard is on the Iero-Dewees team now and that they will get through anything together, or so had Frank promised him.

James isn't finished talking. "He'll have this time to write that report on your mental state and if he goes there, the Detectives might start talking and we don't want to be discredited. Still, he thinks you'd want to be initiated, so I—"

"Initiated," Gerard echoes, wide-eyed, but kind of laughing at the poor choice of words. "That sounds like a crappy ritual or something."

James chuckles, but he says, "It's an old family Secret and Frank himself is old, so I think he just likes giving things fancy names. It just means that you will start eating his recipes more often and I shall bring them to you."

Gerard nods in agreement, and he wants to ask James about what Frank really is like behind his white coat, but the door buzzes like it's unlocking. And soon the two Detectives come in.

 

**Twenty Five.**  
 _Year: 2005 - 2007.  
Location: United States of America. _

Gerard's trial starts fifteen months after he's transferred to county jail.

Until then, he has a rather uneventful stay at the new location. He shares a cell with someone else, but they barely talk, or at least Gerard tries to avoid the ugly man as much as he can. He doesn't bother anyone and no one bothers him, so it's pretty peaceful and boring. The only thing that's happening is James's weekly visits.

The lawyer always brings food hidden under his suit jacket, wrapped in a napkin and plastic wrap, and it's always a miniature version of the fried rolls so Gerard can stick them in his mouth and chew quickly. It's rather simple and the guards rarely pay attention to the Visitors Room unless something violent occurs or if someone talks too loud. While he eats, he observes and listens to James. He's a handsome man, with his neat suits and ties of every color Gerard has ever seen. He has green eyes that are deep and thoughtful, also holding secrets like no other and hiding whatever things he has seen in his career. The most interesting detail about James are his manners; he's educated and once in his business mode, his eloquence surfaces and he utters the most uncommon words Gerard has ever heard. It's pretty impressive and Gerard wonders how long he has lived, although he said that he still looks his age. And Gerard would say he is around forty-five years old.

Gerard is rather pleased to define a strategy with James because he's a great person, even though Gerard has heard his stories about being evil in some cases, which make him an even more interesting person to have met.

Over time, Gerard finds out more about Frank's report and how they'll use it in court. They won't have a jury at the trials, because there are no witnesses to question and James says it might help their cause if they use the right arguments. With Gerard's father's body being the first evidence to be used by the prosecution and therefore being the most important one, James says that they will support their main course of defense on Gerard's age at the time of the murder and his possible teenage instability, mental and hormonal.

And well, once they get to court, in early 2007, everything makes a lot more sense to Gerard. James pleads a serious case of dementia, early settled due to Gerard's grandmother's disease and their proximity, arguing that Gerard hadn't taken it lightly and had suffered a lot until her recent death. He arguments that Gerard started hallucinating, or having vivid dreams about killing to save his grandmother, and that he was lost in his grief and started an imaginative quest for a cure at the age of fifteen. _Dr. Iero_ supports this theory with a full report and a medical statement in the courtroom, answering the lawyers' questions.

Without any further witnesses, since Gerard has no family or friends alive and no one had actually seen him murder, it's actually fast to get this whole situation over with. In the end, with one body and twenty Police files from the Ridge Road murders that holds all the similarities in the MO, the prosecution does tell the judge that Gerard confessed over seventy murders at the Police station, but without a proper confession in writing and signed by Gerard himself, that argument falls on stony ground.

Then, in his counter-argument, James uses _Dr. Iero's_ report as his big evidence and his most persuasive tone of voice, words and of course that haughty attitude of a defense attorney with a cause to stand for.

Gerard's sentence will be ready two days later, after the judge reflects on everything exposed at the trial and writes down the official accord. Both James and Frank visit Gerard at the county jail in the meantime to assure him that they are very positive about this because, although the prosecution might win the trial, there is no way the judge will send him to prison.

 

 **Twenty Six.**  
Gerard struggles against the handcuffs, but it's worthless. It hurts. He has struggled with them for the past six weeks and the result is always the same; Gerard ends up frustrated and the handcuffs still in place. He's sitting on the bed right now, the best he can at least with both his arms stuck in metal, and he's not comfortable at all, but he supposes that everything was done so he could feel this discomfort for the rest of his life.

After the trial and the two days waiting, Gerard was sentenced to three years of confinement for each murder that the detectives had connected to Gerard, using their forensic evidence. The total was sixty-three years, but the judge decided to accept Dr. Iero's report and also Gerard's instable behavior in the courtroom — which had obviously been part of their defined strategy — so Gerard was sent to this facility for the mentally impaired. James and Frank had been quite satisfied because apparently this followed through with their 'plan', but Gerard was the one who had to spend six weeks handcuffed to a bed. He isn't satisfied at all.

He gives up, lying down on the hard mattress and releasing a deep sigh. The good part is that Frank does work here, although he only comes to see Gerard once a week. It's the rules; there are specific days for visitors for each inmate and they have to resort to them because Frank isn't his doctor. Anyway, Frank comes on one day and James comes on another, both bringing Gerard two weekly meals of the big Iero Secret. Frank says that is more than enough and that he only eats once a week and still doesn't age normally.

Then comes the downside of it. After every visit, a doctor comes into his room to examine Gerard thoroughly, a full body inspection in case Frank or James stick something up his ass or whatever.

That's not even the worst of it. Gerard won't be free for the next sixty-three years because whatever this 'plan' is, Gerard isn't seeing any of it in action. He is just lying or sitting down on a hospital bed, bored for the rest of his life, and he doesn't even sleep because one, he has never slept for more than four hours per night, and two, he's not even tired in this place.

Well, he is taken out of the room once a day. He's taken to the common room to eat breakfast with every other inmate and afterwards to what the staff calls the Gym Room, where they can exercise for an hour. The rest of the time, Gerard is stuck in his room. The other two meals happen in there, Gerard losing the handcuffs for another hour each time so he can eat, although he won't go anywhere because there is a nurse standing by the bed, watching vigilantly with a sedating shot on a wheeling cart next to her. When his assigned psychiatrist, obviously not Frank, comes to see him, he releases the handcuffs as well, but it doesn't mean anything because his questions are meaningless, about Gerard's fake dementia and hallucinations. If so, this is the fun part of Gerard's day, since he can lie to him and imagine the most awkward things. Everything, of course, following Frank and James's 'plan'.

At least, it can't be worse than prison.

Most of the time, since there's nothing he can do, Gerard finds himself thinking about Grandma, wondering if she's alright now, if he disappointed her, or if this makes him less worthy of her love. He had worshipped her in such a strong way that it had blinded him and put him on a wild quest, but in the end he had lost control and now he's paying the prize. He would rather not dwell too much on that. That plan is over and his new allies started a new one and it's supposed to change his life. This powerful secret that he's already in on, although almost inhumane, seems to be the way to achieve his longtime wanted goal, but Gerard wonders if it will be worth it without his grandmother.

As he considers this yet again, one day, after six weeks into his sentence, the door opens and in comes a nurse and behind her comes Frank with his usual brown bag and that proud grin he's been showing to Gerard a lot. It's quite stunning, but Gerard refuses to think too much about it with someone else in the room. The nurse takes the handcuffs out of one wrist and exits the room, leaving the door open and Gerard knows there is a guard in the corridor watching it. For now, though, he focuses on the man in the room with him, perfectly aware that he is being given an opportunity of a lifetime. Quite literally.

Past the first greetings and the silent gazes that he shares with Frank, which are now more frequent than Gerard likes to admit, he motions for the brown bag and Frank takes the red bowl from inside it. Today it's a salad and Gerard already knows what the red bits are and it's not peppers. It's parts of a baby that Frank took out of its mother's womb recently. This doesn't confuse Gerard anymore because he knows the nutritive properties of these unborn fetuses and of course, he follows Frank's advice; he doesn't think about where it comes from, but what it will eventually do. Gerard smirks because he remembers this and how sick he felt the first time Frank told him about this Secret, but the memory is sweet. This because Gerard looks at Frank and he looks like he's thirty five years old, but knows that he was sent to American by his mother, with a very special recipe in his bag over sixty years ago. No matter how crazy, it's a rather appealing thought that someone so old can actually look so young.

He feels Frank's eyes on him as he picks another red piece from the bowl with his hand, since the staff doesn't allow any cutlery in unless they're here with their sedative shots. Gerard doesn't think about it as he stares at what he's eating. He isn't sure of what he sees in the bit he's holding, but he shivers because that black dot might as well have been an eye. He pops it into his mouth to not think about it, as Frank asks, "Crunchy, isn't it?"

Gerard chuckles at how naturally Frank mentions it, but he's been living with it for a long time, so Gerard doesn't even bother to react in any other way. He replies, "It's still weird, but tastes good. You'll have to teach me all these recipes."

"Eventually," Frank says, with his proud grin again.

Gerard remembers something all of a sudden, but decides to tease Frank about it. They have been getting closer during these visits, so he starts, "About that, _Dr. Iero_ —"

Frank grins. "Don't say my name like that while you're still handcuffed to the bed, _please_ ," he says in a sultry voice, matching Gerard's. They end up laughing it off, but Gerard knows what it actually means, as there has been this mutual attraction for some time. They don't speak openly about it, but Gerard is not going to deny it, no matter how ignorant he is about keeping this attraction to someone alive. Still he moves on to what he really wants to ask.

"How is this in your plan to help me?" He lowers his voice in case the guard outside is closer to the door than they think. "I'm stuck in this hospital, handcuffed to this same bed except on very rare occasions, with a guard out there in the hall. There are no windows except those tiny vents up on that wall, so I can't even distract myself. As soon as you leave, a doctor will come in and inspect every inch of my skin and every hole in my body. So my question is, how is this helping me? Is there actually a 'plan'?"

"Definitely. There is a plan, we just needed these weeks to find the right guard to stay in the hall every evening, next week," Frank answers, smirking. Then, he leans closer to Gerard and whispers, "We're gonna help you escape."

Gerard hums, unconvinced, but before he can react, there's a tap at the door. The guard sticks his head inside through the open door and states that their time is up. Frank has to leave, but Gerard has another question first. "But how? In a laundry cart? In a nurse's outfit?"

Frank laughs out loud, as he gathers the almost empty red bowl, putting it back into the brown bag. He says, in between laughs, "Your head in a cap and your great legs in a skirt! That'd be a good look for you!"

Glaring at him, Gerard pulls at the handcuff in annoyance, while Frank turns around and exits the room, his laughter dying in the distance.

 

**Twenty Seven.**  
 _Year: 2008.  
Location: Southeast Europe. _

Gerard doesn't even know the name of this country yet, but he doesn't think of it as he puts his white apron on. He is not a doctor, but he spent years studying the human anatomy, victim after victim, and Frank trusts him with this. Frank is currently at work and, instead of staying at home, Gerard is at the brand new clinic with his fifth appointment.

Going into the room, he nods at the local nurse who is here to help them. They don't speak much because Gerard only knows a few words in her native language and she never learned English, but it doesn't matter. They communicate enough so that she can assist Gerard in their duties, but she was never warned about their real purpose with these abortions they perform and don't even charge money for. It's pretty irrelevant, anyway.

He looks at the woman on the stretcher, lying on her back and her bent up knees exposing her to Gerard. This is already a normal procedure to him, even though he's not really experienced with this, but he's seen Frank do it several times and he's always ready. First, he needs to remember the details about this patient from the form she filled, in English.

She's nineteen years old and this is her first pregnancy, but she's already at sixteen weeks since she ignored her state until recently. At this stage, Gerard knows that he can't do it the easy way, simply scraping at the tissue inside her uterus. He will have to do it the hard way, after almost six hours of waiting for her cervix to dilate, because the baby is already developed to a point that could damage her irreparably. He knows she's going to be in a lot of pain, but she came here on her own, decided to do this, so Gerard guides her as skillfully as he can through the end of her first pregnancy.

A first-born is the most nutritive of them all and the most effective after being cooked, so Gerard smirks all the time until he's finished. He understands that she's suffering from this intrusive procedure, mostly because they don't use any drugs as those damage the fetus's nervous system and therefore, making it inedible. He _really_ understands, but he's looking forward to this. They haven't eaten a first-born in almost five weeks and Gerard is already salivating.

 

**Epilogue.**  
 _Year: 2068.  
Location: United States of America. _

Frank and Gerard are back in America after traveling the world and having lived in several countries, around five years in each one. Every time they would find a job for Frank, who insisted in working as a doctor because he liked meeting new people, the odder the better. It was always very easy, although Gerard isn't sure if it's because Frank has such a long résumé or if it's because he has the biggest mouth and a persuasive temper. Well, as far as Gerard is concerned, he is very familiar with Frank's personality by now, having experienced it for the first time in 2005 after being arrested and then in 2020, when they were living in Russia and Gerard ended up in Frank's bed due to this powerful persuasion. He can't complain about it, though. He likes it there.

Apart from his sheets, Gerard likes to share Frank's love for their secret and in every country, they opened a clinic to perform the same old abortions, using James's help directly from America. He stayed in the country because he loved his job and, with Jamia at the clinic, he had his eternal youth guaranteed. Gerard can only thank James for having stayed there because he figured out a way to access Gerard's inheritance fortune, after a lot of illegal practices, Gerard is sure, but that is pretty much irrelevant. This millionaire amount of money is their safety net and that feels very reassuring.

Now that they're back, Gerard checks his old family mansion. It's still there, magnificent, uninhabited, abandoned, and the woods have grown literally into it, but they spend months cleaning it and restoring the house. In the end, the Way Manor comes back to life. Except that it has a different name because they have managed to get new identities through their lawyer's abilities again. Still, it's good to be home.

He shows Frank where his room used to be, and where he had built his dungeon, and where he had kept his tools for when he went hunting, but it's a remote memory. He's much better with this Iero Secret and he doesn't have to hide anymore, although at first he refuses to walk around town. However, what he realizes is that no one recognizes them, although they haven't changed much since the last time they were here. And well, Gerard's trial and his escape from the hospital have prescribed a long time ago, so his hometown is safe again.

Frank seems to love it a lot, as well. He starts working at a small hospital, an hour away from the manor. Then, there's Gerard's newfound passion: teaching art, mainly sculpting and pottery. It started when James offered him a memorial plaque, in a beautiful granite stone, dedicated to his grandmother. Gerard placed it on the ground in the little backyard they built, making it look like a private graveyard. This sudden reminiscence fed a new hunger in Gerard and he became a private art tutor, just like his Grandma had been, and it made him feel good.

The final step of their settling in town is the clinic. This time, it's easier, as the laws concerning abortion changed and they can make it an actual practice, not a secret or clandestine and supposedly disposing of the fetuses according to the governmental directives. Well, maybe not exactly like that, but as soon as their appointments started becoming frequent, they understood the need to actually dispose of the dead babies because they had too many in their hands. Therefore, they start getting rid of the babies that are not the women's first or second pregnancy because those are just a waste of female hormones in what their diet is concerned. They prefer the nutritive first-borns, of course.

One day, James brings a proposition to the dining table, at the Way Manor. He justifies it by talking about all the babies they throw away, since their practice is so famous because of the low prices they charge. His idea seems very tempting, because they certainly don't need all the dead babies they deliver and, although it takes some time to convince Frank, he ends up admitting that he hates wasting away good food. So the proposition is accepted and, in his heart, Gerard feels like they're going to start a revolution.

It doesn't really hit him until eight months later, when he's standing under that fluorescent sign he gave an opinion on. He's wearing his neatest outfit; black jeans that are rather classy, and a dress shirt that clings to his skin, an imposing blue jacket and his trademark black boots with buckles. A now pretty familiar face passes by him and he greets her politely, as she looks very much the same from Frank's old pictures except for the red, long hair that was dark in those photographs. Gerard sees her talking with Frank and it's so good to see how close he still is to Jamia after years of barely speaking to her while he traveled the world with Gerard.

When he realizes that he's almost late, Gerard enters the building and gives Frank a quick peck on the lips, walking towards the kitchen. Gerard is the head chef in the house, so he takes off his jacket and shirt, replacing them by his white chef jacket that fits him perfectly. He nods at his team and they set to work.

They are, after all, at the big opening of the new restaurant in town, _Immaculate Delicacy._

Hours later, after serving the most influential guests, like a delegate from the Presidential Offices and the CEOs of major food companies, and other common customers, Gerard feels rather satisfied. He shares his feelings with his partners in crime, Frank and James and now Jamia. They all have smirks on their faces when Gerard comments, "What a great opening."

"I drink to that," Jamia says, with a bright grin, before lifting her champagne glass so they can make a toast. "To our immaculate delicacies."

"To the best Secret in the world," adds James.

Gerard smirks at Frank as they say, in unison, "To an everlasting life."

**~the end.**

**Author's Note:**

> You can check the art made by [Amber](http://sirenofodysseus.livejournal.com/) for the original version of this story. [Here.](http://through-the-red.livejournal.com/25467.html)
> 
> Finally, the Iero Secret was inspired by "Aunt Mei", a character in the Japanese movie [Dumplings.](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0472458/)


End file.
